


Beauty Tips That Will Drive Your Man Wild

by SapphoIsBurning



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Trans, Anal Fisting, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Community: wrestlingkink, Dean Has Realizations, Dean in Makeup, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Eyeliner, Feminization, Gender Dysphoria, Genderfluid Character, Kink Meme, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Makeup, Other, Sexual Roleplay, abuse of canonical dean tags that are for a different dean, characters realizing they are trans at intense moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:57:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6370330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphoIsBurning/pseuds/SapphoIsBurning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xavier finds Dean's makeup kit. Dean has to admit he likes looking pretty, and that he really wants to look pretty for Xavier—to be pretty for him, to be someone else entirely.</p><p>Kinkmeme fill for "WWE - Dean Ambrose/any, consensual feminization/gender play".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty Tips That Will Drive Your Man Wild

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try not to kinkshame myself for this one. I will say it started out one thing and then went in a completely different direction as I wrote it. Sometimes characters surprise you. Mind the tags.

Xavier found the secret pocket in Dean’s duffel bag while he was looking for the lube. It was a zippered pocket on the back of the inside—seemed the place to hide the gayest shit in your bag, he thought. He reached in and pulled out another zippered bag, pink with red hearts on it. He opened it.

“No, don’t! Put that—” Dean said with alarm.

Xavier saw a little kit of blue eyeshadows, some lipstick tubes, eyeliner, a mascara, and some other makeup. “No big deal, it’s a makeup kit. Mine’s a little bigger.”

Dean gulped. “You have a makeup kit?”

“Lots of reasons to have a makeup kit,” Xavier said, eyeing the panicked expression in Dean’s eyes. “Though I think I graduated from Wet ‘n’ Wild after middle school,” he said, pulling out a lipstick tube and frowning.

“It’s nothing, just put it back,” Dean said, folding his arms and drawing into himself on the hotel  bedspread.

Xavier complied, putting it away where he found it. “You wanna see mine?” he asked.

“Sure,” Dean said cautiously.

Xavier unzipped his suitcase and pulled out a zippered case with a handle. He sat down next to Dean and opened it, pulling out a handful of brushes and setting them on the bed.

“Where do you even go to get that stuff?” Dean said in awe, looking at Xavier’s eyeshadow palettes. He stroked one of the fluffy brushes against the palm of his hand.

“Department stores, usually. There’s a mall by where my apartment is that has a really good MAC counter.”

Dean blushed. “I usually stock up at Halloween, like it’s easy to cover buying a bunch of makeup at Wal-mart when you’re also getting, like, vampire fangs and some shitty cape.”

Xavier scooted closer to Dean on the bed. “You know, guys work for MAC, like drag queens? They make great makeup salespeople,” Xavier said neutrally. “They’re very helpful.”

“Drag queens, right. Are you a drag queen?” Dean asked.

“No, I’m just your average genderfluid cosplayer.” Xavier stroked the back of Dean’s hand. “What are you?”

Dean snorted. “Heh. My mom caught me, she called me a fairy, but she was kinda nice about it? Like she let me play with the old stuff she didn’t want anymore? Once her boyfriend caught me, all of a sudden it was ‘Get out of my house, faggot,’ from both of them.”

Xavier nodded. He put his arm around Dean and drew him in protectively.

“So sometimes I shoplifted stuff?” Dean went on. “It seems like it should be easier to steal cause it’s all so damn small, but they’re always watchin’ for that stuff to walk away, ya know?” Xavier nodded again even though he didn’t really know. He had never shoplifted in his life.

“Back in the indies there were a couple people who were nice about it, like, me and Jimmy Jacobs beat the shit out of each other but he also taught me how to wing my eyeliner pretty good.” The words poured out of Dean. “People keep it kayfabe most of the time. But I kinda don’t risk going out like I used to anymore.” He frowned. “Vince would shit if he saw. I’d get fired. He’d kill me and then fire me.”

“Nobody’s hate criming you while I’m around,” Xavier said, chuckling awkwardly. Dean laughed at that too even though it wasn’t very funny.

“I’m not sure blue is a great color for you,” Xavier said, dropping his bag in Dean’s lap so he could dig through it.

“Why not, I got blue eyes, don’t I?” Dean said, trying to shrink but failing to pull away from Xavier.

“You want to contrast the color in your eyes, not match it. You want them to pop. Ah, here,” he said, finding a quartet of metallics and some liners. “Bronze or copper would be really nice on you. What kind of lip color do you like to wear?”

Dean huffed like he didn’t know how to answer that question. “Regular kind?”

“Okay, let me put it this way, I like a long-wearing matte fuchsia lipstick or a really opaque gloss,” Xavier said.

Dean just looked down at his hands. He picked at a cuticle.

“Do you have a color you like?” Xavier tried again.

“Pink,” Dean said. “Like a reddish pink.”

“I can work with that.” Xavier perked up and snapped open a palette of lip colors this time, with its own tiny mirror inside.

“Wait, you want to put this stuff on right now?” Dean asked, realization dawning on him. “I don’t...I’m not. I thought we were fucking.” Dean looked down and the bulge in his jeans hadn’t faded.

“Oh, we still are.” Xavier closed the case and stood up from the bed. “Go in the bathroom. I’ll be right there.”

Dean’s pupils dilated even wider, a bare slit of blue rimming black circles. He got up and walked to the bathroom. Wordlessly he hopped up to sit on the counter. He rested his head on his hand, his arm braced on a knee. He was still wearing his one un-ripped black tank top.

Xavier came into the room with the makeup kit.

“I don’t have the right kit to contour you or anything, so it’s just going to have to be a few pops of color, and I can do your eyes. Is that okay?”

Dean nodded, looking stricken.

“What’s your safeword?” Xavier asked, cautiously.

“Lightsaber,” Dean breathed.

“Do you want to use it?” Xavier said.

Dean shook his head vigorously. “I’m good. Can I have a drink of water?”

Xavier filled a glass for Dean, who chugged it down then set it back on the ceramic counter with a clink.

“Okay, I’m ready.” He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand.

Xavier smiled with a touch of evil. “You’re going to look good for me, and you’re going to _be_ good for me.” He picked up a bronze eyeliner pencil and sharpened it casually. “Here’s a trick.” He got a cigarette lighter out of his pocket.

“Hey, that’s mine,” Dean said.

“You’re not supposed to be smoking anyway,” Xavier smirked. “I’m borrowing it.” He flicked the lighter and held the pencil in it for a second, then took it out of the flame. After about fifteen seconds he gently remolded it into a point.

“My mom used to do that,” Dean said. He bit his bottom lip.

“Close your eyes. Don’t flinch—trust me, I won’t hurt you.” Dean obeyed and closed his eyes trustingly. Xavier lined the top of his lids. “Now open them.” Dean did so. Xavier came in and drew in a line between his bottom eyelashes. Dean’s eyes teared and twitched but he didn’t draw away. The softened eyeliner made a smooth line. He did the outside corners and drew a tiny point.

“You can look in the mirror at any time if you want,” Xavier said.

“No, I’ll wait until you’re done,” Dean said softly.

Xavier put a cap on the pencil and picked up a brush with a small head. He opened the lid on a palette of many eyeshadow colors and loaded the brush with a medium bright copper.

“I’m going to put this on your lids, then put a highlight color under your brows, and then a lowlight in the crease of your eye.”

“Was I supposed to be doing it like this? I just thought you rubbed it on with the little sponge on the stick,” Dean said bashfully.

“Just some tricks I’ve picked up over the years,” Xavier said. “Close your eyes again.”

Dean closed them and when he did so, he felt the soft bristles of the brush dust his eyes with color. He felt another swipe go on the other eye, and then more, probably with a different color. He felt Xavier trace the crease of his eye with his fingertip then follow with another swipe of eyeshadow.

Xavier blew gently across Dean’s face, and Dean shivered. He felt goosebumps on his arms.

“Open your eyes, I’m going to put some mascara on you.”

Dean opened them to see Xavier, head cocked in thought.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Just looking,” Xavier said with a smile. “I like to look at you.”

Dean tried to stop the smile that brought on, but he couldn’t.

Xavier opened a tube of mascara and wiped the brush off with a tissue. He tilted Dean’s head back gently and then ran the brush over just his top lashes, zigzagging it back and forth horizontally to apply it evenly. When he was done, he ran a tiny comb through Dean’s lashes to separate them.

He reached into his bag and got out a small pot and a round brush. He opened the pot and dipped the brush in a pink powder, tapping off the excess on the edge of the sink. He swept the brush over Dean’s left cheekbone and toward his temple.

“This would be a little easier if you shaved,” Xavier said gently.

“I used to! But now it’s like, ahh, lunatic fringe! He’s dangerous, they can’t let him use a razor! Crappy beard gimmick time.” Dean gestured wildly with his hands, but stopped so Xavier could rouge his other cheek.

“Almost done,” Xavier said. He opened a palette of lip colors, frowned, closed it, and dug all the way to the bottom of the bag. “Aha,” he said, pulling out a light green tube. “This one looks good on everyone.”

“Can I put it on?” Dean asked.

“Sure, sweetie,” Xavier said. He opened the tube and turned it to expose a soft rose-colored lipstick, and then handed it over to Dean.

Dean turned to look in the mirror. His blue eyes popped against the coppery color Xavier had put on him. With determination and a slightly shaky hand, he outlined the bow of his top lip, starting in the center and working to each side. Then he colored his bottom lip, from one corner to the other. He pressed his lips together and smacked them apart.

“Dean,” Xavier said. “You never answered the question I asked before. What are you?”

They looked in the mirror together.

“Pretty,” Dean said. “I’m pretty.”

“Very pretty.” Xavier shifted to be behind Dean and put his arms around the lovely man. He ran his hands up Dean’s chest, caressing him.

Dean drew in a shuddering breath. “Fuck me,” he said.

“Ooh, pretty girl with a mouth on her,” Xavier said. “I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“Please,” Dean begged. He slid off the counter. Xavier spun him around to hold him at arms length and take a long look.

“How about this. I finger your pussy until you’re good and wet and screaming for me, and then I fuck you.” Xavier paused. “Is that okay? Are you into this? Green light? Lightsaber?”

“I’m so into it,” Dean said, laughing a little. “I want to be your girl,” he said shyly, fluttering his eyelashes a little. Dean’s heart fluttered at the prospect of being thought of that way by Xavier.

“My baby girl, come here,” Xavier said. He took Dean’s hand. They went to the bed.

Xavier laid Dean flat on his back, drawing off his jeans and his black briefs. Dean pulled his own black tank top off, carefully guiding it over his head to not mess up his face.

Dean lost sight of Xavier, who went digging through another bag. He came out with a pair of black gloves and a tube of lube. Xavier pulled the gloves on with a flourish. He poured a generous stream of sticky, clear lube on the fingers of his right hand.

“Ready, sweetie?” Xavier asked. Dean nodded, his erection bobbing against his stomach. He pulled his legs up to his chest, planting his heels. “Good girl.” Xavier lubed Dean’s entrance and then speared him with two fingers, scissoring them, rocking them hard.

Dean cried out, “Oh fuck, yes!”

“Tell me where you want me to fuck you,” Xavier leered.

“My pussy. Make my pussy wet,” Dean gasped.

“You’re so wet for me,” said Xavier. He slowed down, rocking his gloved fingers out and then all the way back in, slowly. Dean arched his back and spread his thighs further, opening up for Xavier. He slid a triangle of three fingers in, easily. Dean’s body was liquid for him and ready to play.

Dean’s hand crept toward his hard dick, but Xavier batted it away. “Shh, baby, let me take care of you.” Xavier took Dean’s dick in his left hand and gave it a few strokes. “Does it feel good when I touch you like that?” He slid a fourth finger into Dean’s asshole.

“Oh god, please, harder,” Dean cried, a few stray tears streaking his mascara. He didn’t care.

Xavier pushed gently, sliding his hand into Dean’s ass up to the palm of his hand, his thumb the only part not buried in his partner.

“Are you ready for my cock?” Xavier asked. “I’m so hard, I’m probably going to die if you say no, but no pressure.”

Dean howled wordlessly, arching his back, bridging up into Xavier’s hand.

“You gotta say actual words D, what do you want me to do?” He fucked Dean’s ass gently with his hand, adjusting himself with his other gloved hand.

“Please, Xavier,” Dean panted, his hands fisting in the sheets. He caught his breath. “Let me ride your cock. I’ll be so good for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Xavier grinned. He slid his hand out gently, then shed his gloves. “Can I please use the glow-in-the-dark condom?”

Dean leaned up on one elbow. “Go for it.” He flopped back down on his back and swept his hair back from his forehead. “Oh god, I need you, please, fill me up.”

“I’m here, I’m right here,” Xavier said, emerging from the other side of the bed, his pants finally removed. He lazily stroked his own cock while taking in the sight of his partner, dolled up and sex-disheveled. “You look so great,” he said.

Dean writhed on the bed. He looked at Xavier though his made-up eyelashes. “Come and get some then.”

Xavier crawled onto the bed, his headband having come off and his loose hair bouncing in every direction. He lifted Dean’s legs onto his shoulders, kissing the arch of each of his feet and nuzzling his instep. “Every inch of you is amazing,” he said reverently. “You are so beautiful.”

Dean pressed his lips together, giving Xavier a skeptical look.

“I mean it!” Xavier said, stroking his hands down the back of his thighs and holding his ass with both hands. “I want to eat a bowl of cereal out of that dimple in your left cheek. I want to move into it.”

Dean started to smile a little.

“You ready?” Xavier checked, getting back to the rather urgent matter at hand. Dean nodded, and  Xavier lined himself up, fucking in and drawing a string of curses out of Dean. “Dirty mouth, dirty girl?” Xavier asked.

Dean shook his head. “‘m not dirty. I’m good.”

“That’s my girl,” Xavier said, “nothing wrong with liking to get fucked hard. Only natural a pretty girl like you needs a man to treat her right. Bet all kinds of losers come by trying to get with you.”

“No scrubs,” Dean moaned between pants.

Xavier cracked up, doubled over at the waist and fell down onto Dean, which sent Dean into a fit of giggles too.

Xavier took Dean’s face in his hands, now that they were closer. “I’ll take good care of you,” he said, kissing Dean gently. Dean grabbed the back of Xavier’s head and pulled him in, kissing harder, feeling his lipstick smear all over the both of them and not minding that thought. Xavier rolled his hips, fucking into Dean with little strokes, an inch one way, an inch the other. He got a hand between them and worked Dean’s cock too. The two of them undulated together, and Dean grabbed and kissed whatever he could get a hold of—Xavier’s arm, his hair, the back of his neck. He traced the outline of Xavier’s heaving pec with his tongue.

“I’m so close,” Dean moaned.

“Hang on baby girl,” Xavier said, speeding up his strokes.

“Put a baby in me!” Dean shouted suddenly. Then he blushed, embarrassed at how deep he was in this headspace, and how good it felt. But Xavier wasn’t fazed.

“Oh girl, I’m gonna fill you up, fill that belly up,” he said. “I’ll take care of you and our baby.”

“I want to have your baby,” Dean moaned, finally coming, tears leaking out of his eyes. Xavier hushed him and gathered him close, pressing kisses into Dean’s hair. He thrust gently and let himself go, coming in the condom but pretending it was all flowing into Dean, his beautiful girl.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, more tears pouring out. He hiccuped and started to sob. “I’ve never felt like this before.” He tried to roll away from Xavier, but was caught by strong arms.

“D, sweetie, it’s okay, come here, shh,” Xavier said.

“I ruined it, I’m sorry,” Dean said.

“You didn’t ruin anything. This got a little emotional while I’m sitting here with a glow in the dark condom on, but I can deal. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful when you smile and you’re beautiful when you cry,” he said, dabbing at Dean’s tears with a corner of the bedsheet.

“I’m beautiful when I’m a scary dude with a ton of scars and a receding hairline who will never, ever pass as a cute girl anywhere, ever,” Dean said into Xavier’s shoulder.

“Fuck passing,” Xavier said. “You are amazing and great and I will stand by you no matter what. You’re my girl.” He paused. “You’re mine.”

Dean sighed. “I’m yours.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> I had a hard time figuring out if I should switch to female pronouns at some point in this story and I did try it out that way. It was really hot, but it was also a really different story. I also thought about switching the whole thing to first person to avoid that problem, which was an interesting idea but Dean's internal monologue is way different from my narration voice so...we went with this. Thanks for reading, as always.


End file.
